Sick momma. Sick baby. No ones happy.

In an attempt to spend some quality time with my sister before she leaves for Italy–whole other blogpost–we decided that we would go for a run. This was about four days ago. Since then I have been bedridden due to the exacerbation of a herniated disc and broken vertebrae from my freshman year of college along with intense sciatic pain.

Normally this would be no big deal. My mom and dad would have to help me a little bit more with Paloma but last Thursday she was diagnosed with an ear infection. Sick baby equals an intense case of mommy-itis.

It’s been a rough few days. For those that don’t know me in real life, I don’t like to show that I’m in pain unless it’s totally unbearable. My freshman year of college I broke one of my vertebrae helping my roommate move into our dorm. I spent five weeks in unbearable pain, even asking my roommate help bathe me, until I finally called my parents and asked them to pick me up in Gainesville to go to the hospital in Miami. The doctors in the emergency room thought I had tried to kill myself from all the pain pills I had been popping.

Anyway, the point is that all I wanted to do was sleep to numb the pain but PJ had different plans. At first we cuddled and watched Jake and the Neverland Pirates. But after awhile she wanted to play hide-and-seek. Normally I’m all up to watch Paloma run around the house like a jack rabbit but I physically couldn’t. That led to tears and tantrums, causing my fuse to shorten with each shout. After about two days I LOST IT. I want to get better so I can go back to running, laughing, and snuggling. But with PJ on top of me it was really difficult not to find myself caught in an uncomfortable position.

I started snapping at her and eventually just left in the playpen with the television on just so I could get a few minutes of rest. It was awful and it’s not like I felt good doing it. A part of my soul died with each frustrating moment. She’s only 19 months old. It’s not her fault that she doesn’t understand that mommy isn’t feeling well either. All she knows is that she’s sick and wants her momma around. Reminding myself of that I would find myself holding back tears every time she would reach up and cry, “MAMA! MAMA! sob MAMAMAMAMAMA!” She would get bored of watching tv. She wants to run and be chased, to be tickled and loved. But my parents and sister had their own things going on and would just put the tv on for her to keep her quiet. I would get so frustrated because she needs more stimulation than a tv.

It’s been a rough few days but today I felt better. Paloma had her last dose of antibiotic last night and overall I would say our collective crankiness has begun to subside. She went to CAIF with my sister today and from what I heard chased a boy and finger painted without being coerced. We took a nap together when she came home and grandma made meatloaf for dinner. Tomorrow my sister and I have a lady date planned where we’re going to try out a new (for us) spa in Montevideo along with a sushi buffet. I’ll make sure to post a review of those places.

These rough days have served as a reminder that while my parents may not parent the way I do, they are my support system when raising my daughter. I may spend most of my days taking care of them, but I’m still their baby and they will do whatever they can to take of me. They changed diapers, gave baths, took care of meals, and were overall picking up my slack. I may whine about being in this alone but I know there isn’t anything further than the truth. We’re an “all for one, and one for all” kind of family.

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mvega1107

USAmerican immigrant living in Uruguay raising my daughters the best I know how. I plan on using this site to share our experiences and how I raise my daughters in a culture so very different from what I'm used to.

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